


Roleplaying

by MirrorMystic



Series: Where The Lines Overlap [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Comedy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: One of the nicest things about getting everyone together is that everyone has a part to play.(Or: Ann, aspiring actress, drags all her friends into helping her rehearse.)





	Roleplaying

**Author's Note:**

> _(instrumental)_
> 
> In which Makoto and Ann play cops and robbers, and everyone else comes along for the ride. I hope you all enjoy the read. ^^

~*~  
  
It was around the time that Akira got shot that he started to wonder how he got involved in this whole mess.  
  
He’d been at Leblanc, that was it. Sojiro was glaring at him, arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently. He was waiting for an explanation. What had he done this time? Maybe he’d found an empty Starbucks cup in the trash- Akira didn’t even like their coffee, he just did it for the look on Sojiro’s face. But no, this was different. Sojiro was angry. Like, for real angry.  
  
Akira couldn’t even remember what he’d done, only that he needed a way out. Something. Anything…  
  
Akira’s phone rang. In an instant, he had it to his ear.  
  
“Hey, Ann!” He said, just a little too brightly. “Yeah, yeah, I’d _love_ to come pick you up at the _police station_ …”  
  
~*~  
  
Akira wasn’t entirely sure what kind of look Ann was going for. Her studded belt, boots and bomber jacket said “biker”, but her rose-tinted sunglasses and cat-ear headband said “X-Men”.  
  
All of this became moot the moment she ran up and kissed him.  
  
Ann was soft, and so, so warm. Akira would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this. That being said, Akira knew a stage kiss when he felt one.  
  
They parted, and Ann threw her arms around his neck. Akira sighed and awkwardly put his hands on her hips.  
  
“Ann, what the hell is this?” Akira muttered, deadpan.  
  
“You’re my boyfriend,” Ann whispered into his ear. “And you’re escorting me from the police station after a terrible, terrible misunderstanding…”  
  
A scream split the air. Akira looked up sharply.  
  
Yusuke and Haru were standing across the street, looking like they were on their way to the opera- Yusuke in a tailed coat and cravat, Haru in an evening gown, fur wrap, and long gloves pulled up over her elbows. She was staring at them, her hand over her mouth in horror. She stabbed one gloved finger forward in accusation.  
  
“That’s her!” Haru shrieked. “That’s the girl who broke into my estate and _stole_ the Philosopher’s Legacy!”  
  
“Good heavens!” Yusuke said, clutching Haru’s arm. “That’s the cat burglar, the master thief- the Red Panther! Guards! GUARDS!”  
  
“Run!” Ann cried, bolting away. Akira stood there and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Oh, for-”  
  
“ _PANTHER!_ ” Makoto cried out, rounding the corner and charging down the street.  
  
“...fuck’s sake,” Akira said, and ran.  
  
~*~  
  
Stilted acting and campy dialogue or not, Makoto Niijima furiously charging down the street and screaming your name made one hell of an impression.  
  
Akira caught up to Ann as they ran through winding back streets, darting around milk crates, garbage bags, bike racks. Somewhere behind them, they could hear the tromp of Makoto’s boots hitting the pavement.  
  
“‘The Red Panther’?” Akira asked, as they ran.  
  
“Shut up!” Ann snapped. “Pink and black were already taken!”  
  
They approached an alleyway blocked off from each adjoining street by a pair of fences. Ann leapt the first fence with ease. Akira followed her over, but fumbled the landing, scraping his shin on the pavement.  
  
“Ow,” Akira said flatly. “Parkour.”  
  
“Sorry,” Ann said, as they made for the second fence. “Normally there’d be a crash pad, but-”  
  
“Panther!”  
  
Makoto’s sharp voice cut through the air, ringing with authority. She dropped down from the fence, her service pistol drawn. Ann froze, halfway up the opposite fence, Akira penned in between them.  
  
“Give it up, Panther,” Makoto said, jaw tight. “It’s over.”  
  
“Oh, Officer Niijima,” Ann said, coyly pressing a finger to her lips. “Are you breaking up with me?”  
  
“You’re coming with me,” Makoto said. “Both of you.”  
  
“Do _I_ get any say in this at all?” Akira wondered.  
  
“You answered my call,” Ann said. “That makes you an accomplice.”  
  
“Great.”  
  
“Panther,” Makoto said, her voice wavering. “...Ann. It’s not too late. Turn yourself in! If I just talk to the Chief-”  
  
“Never!” Ann cried. “I’ll never go back! I still have something I need to do… and I would rather die than leave it undone. You’d know that, if you knew me at all… Mako.”  
  
Makoto swallowed hard.  
  
“Ann, please don’t make me do this.”  
  
Ann took a shuddering breath.  
  
“...Do your duty, Officer.”  
  
Ann blinked away a single tear and began to climb. Makoto took aim, fingers trembling, her beautiful features twisted into a grimace.  
  
Finally, Makoto tore her aim away and emptied her pistol into the air, screaming in anguish, while the Red Panther and her ‘boyfriend’ climbed over the fence and slipped away.  
  
~*~  
  
Akira followed Ann to the mouth of an alleyway, where they crouched down and waited.  
  
“What are we doing?” Akira asked.  
  
“Shh,” Ann chided. “We’re off-stage…”  
  
Across the street, Makoto was standing with her hands clasped behind her back, Yusuke and Haru lingering nearby.  
  
“Damn it, Niijima!” Ryuji cried out, in a fake mustache and an outrageous Brooklyn accent. “How could you have lost her _again_?!”  
  
“I’m sorry, Chief,” Makoto said stiffly. “It won’t happen again.”  
  
“That’s damn right it won’t!” Ryuji pounded a fist into the folding card table that passed as his ‘desk’. “Yer off this case, Niijima! Yer lucky I’m not askin’ ya to turn in yer badge!”  
  
“Now, now, Chief Sakamoto, let’s not be hasty…” Haru cooed, a far cry from her hysterics out in the street. “Officer Niijima is an upstanding member of the force. She would _never_ let her _personal history_ with a suspect impede an investigation. And she’d _certainly_ never put her career on the line for the sake of a worthless _criminal_ , would she, dear?”  
  
“Oh, no,” Yusuke said, with a dangerous smile. “Certainly not. That would be unseemly.”  
  
“I have faith that Officer Niijima will bring the Red Panther to justice,” Haru smiled, sickly sweet. “The Panther will hang for this, you can be certain. And after what she did to Officer Niijima’s poor sister… well. That’s justice, is it not? An eye for an eye.”  
  
Yusuke circled around Ryuji’s chair and placed a hand on his shoulder. Ryuji grimaced, uncomfortable.  
  
“Such a shame, Officer Niijima’s sister,” Yusuke said. “Such a tragedy.”  
  
“Truly,” Haru cooed. “Trust is the most insidious of poisons. Poor little Futaba placed her trust in a criminal, and look what happened. I… _trust_ … that Officer Niijima won’t make the same mistake?”  
  
“Holy shit,” Akira muttered, across the street. “Haru’s killing it.”  
  
“Isn’t she?” Ann beamed. Her hand closed around Akira’s wrist. “We can’t stay and watch, though. Our cue’s coming up!”  
  
~*~  
  
The shack was dreary and dark, the walls painted in silver moonlight. A girl lay in bed, her hands clasped across her chest. In the argent stillness, she looked like an angel- or a ghost. But the serenity didn’t last, broken by the girl’s horrid coughing fit and the shadow that passed across her windowsill. She looked up.  
  
“Ann?”  
  
“Shiho,” Ann whispered, urgent. She crossed the room in an eyeblink, taking Shiho’s hands in her own. They pressed their foreheads together, gazing into each other’s eyes, until Shiho had to pull away, wracked by another coughing fit.  
  
Ann reached into her jacket and pulled out a small bottle. She unstoppered it and pressed it to Shiho’s lips.  
  
“Another dose?” Shiho asked, as she drank. “But the medicine’s so expensive. Ann, how…?”  
  
“Don’t worry about that,” Ann said. She jerked her head towards Akira. “And don’t worry about him.”  
  
Akira had had the sense to use the door rather than climb in through the window.  
  
“Hey, Shiho,” he waved.  
  
“Hi, Akira!”  
  
“You don’t know each other!” Ann snapped.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” Shiho cleared her throat. She slipped back into character. “O-Oh, Ann… how did you get this medicine? How do you have all this money? You don’t have to do this…”  
  
“I’m doing this for _you_ ,” Ann said, squeezing Shiho’s hands. “I did all of this for you…”  
  
“Oh, Ann…”  
  
The door crashed open, slamming against the wall.  
  
“Police!” Makoto yelled.  
  
Akira whirled around, his hand reflexively going to his hip-  
  
There was a bang.  
  
Akira clutched his chest, eyes wide. He staggered back, and fell to the floor.  
  
“God, that stings,” Akira grumbled, scornfully flicking the airsoft pellet to the floor.  
  
“Oh my god, Akira, I’m so sorry,” Makoto babbled.  
  
“Stay in character!” Ann hissed.  
  
“ _Panther!_ ” Makoto cried, snapping back. She leveled her service pistol at the duo.  
  
“No, don’t!” Shiho cried, pulling Ann back and shielding her with her body. “Officer, please! Whatever this is- it- it’s not what you think!”  
  
Makoto growled, her aim twitching. “...Taking hostages, are we? That’s low, Ann. The girl I knew would never have used someone else as a shield.”  
  
“The girl you knew…?” Ann began, but trailed off. She stood, uncoiling herself from Shiho and stepping forward, right into Makoto’s line of fire. “The girl _I_ knew would never have kicked my door in and waved a gun in my face. But just look at you now.”  
  
“ _You_ did this, Ann!” Makoto growled, blinking back tears. “You made it come to this! _You_ stole the Philosopher’s Legacy! _You_ broke into Okumura Manor! _You killed my sister_!”  
  
“If you really believe that,” Ann said, “shoot me.”  
  
Makoto held her pistol so tight her hands began to shake. A ghost danced across her vision. Or maybe it was just Futaba, in a white dress, with a ribbon in her hair.  
  
“Ooooh, I’m a flashback that’s gonna get added in post!” Futaba said, in her best ‘ghost’ voice.  
  
“Hey, bug,” Akira waved.  
  
“Hey, corpse,” Futaba grinned, and disappeared down the hall.  
  
“I was there,” Makoto said, trembling. “I saw you kill her!”  
  
“Did you?” Ann asked. “Or did you just see what the Okumuras wanted you to see?”  
  
“S-Stop it!” Makoto hissed. “This is… this is a trick! You’re a liar, Ann! You’re just trying to weasel your way out, now that I finally have you cornered!”  
  
“You’ve got it backwards, Mako,” Ann said softly, walking forward. “I’m not a liar. Yes, I stole the Philosopher’s Legacy. Yes, I broke into Okumura Manor. But _I_ didn’t kill your sister. And _I’m_ not the one who’s cornered.”  
  
Makoto squeaked as her back hit the wall. She fixed her gaze forward, her aim never wavering from Ann’s chest. But Ann kept coming closer, step by step…  
  
“You’re…” Makoto whispered. “...you’re just a... criminal…”  
  
Ann took another step forward, Makoto’s pistol pressed against her sternum. Makoto gasped as her gloved knuckles just barely brushed against the curve of Ann’s breasts. Ann reached up and traced a finger along Makoto’s jaw.  
  
“No, Officer Niijima,” Ann purred. “I’m a _thief of hearts_.”  
  
Makoto couldn’t take it anymore. She threw her gun aside and darted forward, capturing Ann’s lips in a hungry kiss, gasping as Ann shoved her back against the wall.  
  
Akira watched, deadpan, as the urgent, heated tangle of limbs staggered across the floor, making a beeline for the bed in the corner. He stood up, massaging the red mark on his chest. Makoto and Ann toppled onto the mattress and Shiho let out a delighted squeal that Akira had to assume was out of character.  
  
Shiho met his eyes and gave him a sheepish, wordless smile.  
  
Akira only shook his head, and closed the door behind him.  
  
~*~  
  
“Makoto shot me,” Akira complained, when the others had convened in his room at Leblanc.  
  
“God, that’s hot,” Futaba blurted out.  
  
“With a _gun_ , not with- what- how can that be sexual?” Akira grumbled.  
  
“Use your imagination?” Futaba said.  
  
“Don’t make it weird,” Ryuji said, playing with his fake mustache, sprawled out on Akira’s legs like a puppy- a big, bi, bleach-blonde puppy.  
  
“So, how did you get roped into this, exactly?” Akira asked. He held out his hand, palm down, above Futaba’s head.  
  
“Man, idk,” Futaba said, leaning into the head pat. “You couldn’t pay me enough to wear a dress.”  
  
“Ann did, apparently,” Ryuji said. Futaba stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
“And you?” Akira asked Yusuke and Haru. They were sitting together, sipping tea while dressed to the nines, looking incredibly posh and _incredibly_ out of place in Akira’s attic room.  
  
“We volunteered,” Yusuke said. “Theatre is hardly my forte, but I’m always happy to assist in the creative process. I must support the arts, you know.”  
  
“Plus, we got to get all dressed up! Isn’t that nice?” Haru chirped, smiling.  
  
“And what about you?” Akira said, draping an arm across Ryuji’s chest while he lay on Akira’s lap.  
  
“Huh?” Ryuji asked.  
  
“What did Ann do to get you to do this?”  
  
“Dude, I got to wear a fake mustache and do my best Joey Wheeler,” Ryuji grinned. “Besides, Ann asked me. You think I’d ever say no?”  
  
“You’re whipped,” Akira said.  
  
“Not yet,” Ryuji squirmed. “...I don’t think Ann kept hers, after Mementos collapsed.”  
  
“Do you need one?” Haru asked, eager. “I have plenty!”  
  
“Oh, god, that’s hot,” Futaba blurted out.  
  
“Haru, _why_ do you-” Akira’s phone rang. He sighed. “Hold on.”  
  
He tapped at his phone, bringing it up to his ear.  
  
“Ann?”  
  
_“Hey, Akira!”_  
  
“Please tell me you have pants on.”  
  
_“Why, is that how you like it?”_  
  
“SEND NUDES!” Futaba squealed. Akira grabbed her by the face and shoved her away.  
  
“Hey, make sure you drink some water right after!” Ryuji called. “Don’t wanna get dehydrated.”  
  
“Shut up. Shut up!” Akira said. “Sorry, Ann, what were you saying?”  
  
_“Hey everyone! I was saying, Akira, thanks for today. Mako’s sorry she shot you. And, uh, sorry to drag you into this at the last minute- I coulda sworn I told Ryuji to fill you in.”_  
  
Akira glowered down at Ryuji on his lap. Ryuji smiled, a puppy caught doing something it shouldn’t.  
  
“I forgot?” Ryuji said, lamely.  
  
“Ann,” Akira sighed. “Just… be straight with me a sec-”  
  
“Phrasing!” Futaba called out. Akira grabbed her by the head and smushed her face-first into the couch.  
  
“Ann,” Akira continued, unfazed. “Be honest. Was this _really_ a line-read for a scene you’ve got coming up? Or was this just an elaborate role-playing sex thing?”  
  
Giggles on the other line. Then:  
  
_“Can’t it be both?”_  
  
Akira sighed, putting his head in his hands. These were his friends, people. He was in love with these morons.  
  
_“By the way,”_ Ann was saying, still on the line, _“I maaaaay have gone a little off script at the end there. Having Makoto point a gun at you is just_ ** _so_** _distracting. I think I might need another run-through to get it down. So… how does next Sunday sound?”_ _  
__  
_ Akira heard the sheepish smile in Ann’s voice and god damn it, he could never have said no.  
  
“Fine,” he said, lips curling into a wry smile. “But next time, _I_ get a mustache.”  
  
~*~

**Author's Note:**

> By the by, Ann's outfit here is based on some early concept art (http://chainspell.tumblr.com/post/159889929899) where her design's 'Catwoman' influence was much more explicit. I still wish that rose visor and cat-ear headband had made it into the game. 
> 
> This was kind of silly, but I hope you all still enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!


End file.
